Nest

2 birds

I may be slightly different from other women in that I don’t take much pleasure in either being needy or being needed. I find both sides of that coin rather suffocating. What gives me the greatest pleasure as a mother is seeing my chicks fly free of the nest and become the awesome superstars they were meant to be. This year has been extremely satisfying for me in that regard. Yesterday was the birthday of my eldest. Twenty-seven years! Passed in the blink of an eye. I love them both more than any words can express. Again, happiness and gratitude.

~*~

The Daily Prompt: Nest

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Mushroom

Mushrooms

We’re told to eat boldly colored veggies, but the modest mushroom is packed with vitamins and low in calories. Well, until you do things with it, that is. My kids used to dunk fresh ones in vats of Ranch dressing. My mom sautéed several types together and served them over a salad of wilted greens. I have a fabulous recipe for mushrooms baked in a casserole with butter and breadcrumbs and Italian seasonings. One of my favorite sandwiches is the Portobello mushroom served like a burger with all the toppings. Mushrooms: clever little vehicles to take you to Butter Town.

~*~

The Daily Prompt: Mushroom

Honk

Honking

Most vehicular honking is stupid and pointless. People are just expressing outrage for a fait accompli. They’re mad that someone cut them off, so they honk. They’re frustrated that traffic isn’t moving, so they honk. This temper tantrum does nothing except create unnecessary noise and annoy me. The purpose of honking is supposed to be to warn someone to prevent a dangerous situation, not to express your childish feelings. It’s okay to tap your horn to remind someone to move if they’re distracted with their phone or radio. I’ve done that and vice versa. Don’t get me started on alarms.

~*~

The Daily Prompt: Honk

Dancing

Dancing

No point in dancing around the truth: I am not going to win NaNoWriMo this year. Today I am about 5,000 words short, which means that even if I write the approximate 1,700 words per day necessary to stay even for the next three days, I’d have to somehow flop 5K words on top of that. Not going to happen, despite it being a long weekend (for me). I have things to do, and I’m in pain besides. I’m still going to write this story though. I like it, and it appears to have something previous ones lacked: a plot.

~*~

The Daily Prompt: Dancing

Gratitude

Gratitude

I don’t usually express gratitude publicly. I’m grateful for sumatriptan, which usually knocks out a migraine, but I can’t thank a pill—I should thank a scientist. I’d have to research that, find out who first discovered Imitrex back when. A team of scientists? Who knows. I’m glad it’s generic now, wish I could get more than nine pills per month though, since I get more than nine migraines per month. I could, if I went outside insurance, but who can afford that? Anyway, I am grateful for sumatriptan. My NaNoWriMo wordcount is derailed however due to last night’s pain.

~*~

The Daily Prompt: Gratitude

Faint

Universe

Sometimes I hear faint echoes of lives I might have lived, not when summoned, because those are more properly classified as fantasies, but unbidden. Occasionally they’re catalyzed by conversations or actions I observe from others, interactions among couples, or when I run across a career that seems interesting. I could have done anything, but I didn’t. There’s still time, but not much, and I sense the end of it. Numbers have always seemed real not abstract to me and I see my own fading in the near distance. When my time ends, all time ends: the solipsistic universe of me.

~*~

The Daily Prompt: Faint

Simmer

Quill

I use everything in my writing, like a depression era cook. Nothing goes to waste. While juicy bits might be served immediately, scraps and fat are not tossed out, but flung into the pot on a slow simmer. Bones and beaks will be cycled back in someday, just wait and see. Feathers float around the stove whispering poems as I stir the plot. Little feet line up on the windowsill awaiting their turn as I sweep broken shells into a corner. Oh, I haven’t forgotten what you’ve done. You’re just lucky my weapon is a pen and not a gun.

~*~

The Daily Prompt: Simmer

Ghoulish

halloween-scene

I’m very particular about Halloween costumes. I’m not a big fan of the ghoulish and the gory, though spectral is a different matter. Floaty ghosties are always nice, as are black cats. I do enjoy an elaborately made-up Day of the Dead ensemble. I like plays on words. This year, I was part of a group costume that illustrated a song. We all chose an element and I was Pink Champagne on Ice. It might not have been scary, but it was a lot of fun. Plus, it was my favorite song: “Hotel California.” Happy Halloween to all my blogfans!

~*~

The Daily Prompt: Ghoulish

Orange

noorange

Never cared much for orange. It doesn’t complement my skin tone and it’s a sharp, nervous color. Hurry up, orange says, we haven’t got all day. While yellow connotes happy sunshine, and red reminds me of romantic valentines, orange taps its toe impatiently, obnoxiously. And don’t get me started on oranges themselves with their nasty little pits and stringy skin. Blech! (If we’re discussing orange cake, that’s another matter entirely.) The juice is fine, especially mixed with mango. But as for the colors, I much prefer to wander among the cool, smooth blues and greens and purples, taking my time.

 ~*~

The Daily Prompt: Orange

Expect

twilight-writer

After much fluctuating, I’ve decided to do NaNoWriMo. I’m building in five October “cheat” days to make up for my rocking social life, and the first one is tomorrow. I’m getting excited! It’s been a long time since I wrote my butt off for hours, without expectation. I don’t know what kind of novel this will be, or if I’ll even approach the 50K wordcount at all. Maybe it’ll be semi-autobiographical, or perhaps I’ll cut the selfies later. It might be a suspense novel or a romance. For sure, it will have ghosts, real or metaphorical… or both, most likely.

~*~

The Daily Prompt: Expect